


sonata

by redvanjie



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbians, Smut Eventually, brooke is a violinist, classical musician au, vanjie is a pianist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvanjie/pseuds/redvanjie
Summary: brooke lynn hytes is the hottest up-and-coming violinist in the world of classical music, so finding an accompanist who can meet her standards is a tough job. however, it makes itself a lot easier when a short, energetic pianist by the name of vanessa vanjie mateo struts into her life and sits herself on the piano bench.





	1. Chapter 1

in the midst of one of the most expressive classical pieces she has ever played, the only sound brooke lynn can hear is the sound of her ticking wristwatch. 

it’s been two hours since the auditions had started, but it felt more to brooke like two years. she needed an accompanist for her upcoming concert- it was one of her biggest yet, and somehow this day had managed to crush any excitement she had towards it.

for two hours, she’s played along with mousy-looking pianists that were probably all taught to follow the score strictly- never crescendo when you’re not supposed to, if the score says dolce then that’s how you’ll play it, who are you to question the greats, after all? 

as a result, brooke lynn has heard the same song about fifteen times over, and it’s making her brain numb.

the sonata is meant to be heart-wrenching, and so far she hasn’t heard a single rendition that isn’t completely unremarkable. 

she furrows her brows, the song coming to a rest at about nine minutes in. the pianist in question, a mild-looking thirty year old man with a bald head and a nervous expression, watches in concern as she pulls her violin off of her shoulder and tucks it under her arm.

“thank you for your time,” she snaps, a little more hostile than she intended. her voice booms through the room, a beautiful church that she had rented for the day.

the man doesn’t even fight back- he just gathers his sheet music and leaves through the back door without a word.  
she feels a pang of sympathy in her chest before brushing it off and opening the door for the next musician.

she looks into the lobby, filled with about seven more people. she wants to scream, not only because she needs to survive seven more auditions, but because if she can’t find an accompanist in one of them, she’ll be in trouble.

it’s not as if she’s running short on contenders; being the newest up-and-coming classical artist has made her quite popular recently. however, time is ticking, and she needs to get this piece in order before the concert.

a girl stands up from her chair, and brooke has to double take- she’s short, even with six inch heels, with long caramel hair and flawless makeup. she wears a white plunge-neck blouse with a short navy-blue pencil skirt. although it could still be considered formal, she does not look like a classical musician among her socially awkward competitors in cardigans and sweater vests. 

“so nice to meet you, miss brooke lynn,” says the girl in an uncharacteristically gruff voice that makes brooke triple-take.  
“i’m vanessa vanjie mateo.” 

“nice to meet you, too,” says brooke lynn genuinely, silently thanking the universe for what seems to be the palette cleanser she needs.

she closes the door behind them, and vanessa slowly walks towards the piano, taking in the room- it’s high ceilings, and beautiful architecture, and stained glass windows.

“it’s gorgeous in here,” she says, keeping her eyes on the glass mural of reds and blues and greens behind the piano. 

“yeah, the high ceilings do wonders for the acoustics,” responds brooke lynn, keeping her eyes on vanessa. 

the girl whips around to look at brooke, and smiles from ear to ear.  
“well thank god, it’ll do me justice.”

brooke counts in, and vanessa starts them off, soft and lagato. she eases off, and brooke lynn takes over, the warm sound of her violin echoing through the wooden pillars of the room as promised. 

they play in unison, the gentle lullaby-esque sound filling the church. vanessa plays gently, and brooke isn’t sure if her hypothesis will prove to be true until the moment the song intensifies.

on the turn of a dime, it’s a call and response- a fight for power, and for the first time, brooke lynn doesn’t feel like she’s winning.

vanessa responds with the same energy that brooke gives, almost challenging her. she struggles to maintain control over the song as vanessa plays tug of war, playing the notes with a fiery intensity. for the first time that day, brooke can feel her pulse race. 

they’re back to unison, and brooke lynn struggles to keep up. she tosses a glance at vanessa, who’s practically steaming. it’s captivating, watching someone dive headfirst into music like this. they may not be together, but brooke knows that if she can get a handle on this girl they’ll be unstoppable. 

the song slows down again, back into a soft melodic sound. brooke lifts her bow off the string, given a couple bars rest while the pianist has a solo. she watches vanessa intently, mesmerized by the girl as she plays every note of her part with the soulfulness she had almost given up on finding. 

she’s so hypnotized that when her cue comes, she doesn’t realize, and instead keeps her gaze fixed on vanessa- how her brows furrow in concentration as her fingers press into the keys.

vanessa’s music slowly comes to a halt, and she looks up at brooke in confusion.  
“is there a problem, miss hytes?” asks vanessa, tucking her hands into her lap.

“oh- uh, no, sorry,” stutters brooke, snapping out of her hypnosis and looking back to her music. 

“from bar 47?” 

brooke lynn shakes her head.  
“actually, i think i’ve heard enough, vanessa. thank you.”

the pianist has a look of uncertainty on her face as she stands up, collecting her music from off the piano.

brooke follows her to the door to let her out, but before she leaves, she turns to face the taller violinist. 

they’re close, a little too close for comfort- but vanessa doesn’t seem to mind at all. brooke towers over her- she has to crane her neck down to keep eye contact.

“i just want to say, thank you for the opportunity,” vanessa says, looking up at brooke lynn with wide, honest eyes.  
“you know, a lot of us young artists strugglin to keep our heads above water. competition’s tough.”

her expression is slightly hurt, like she’s reflecting all the times in the past she’s been rejected in the world of classical music but trying not to show it. like she thinks this will be her newest addition to the list.

brooke wishes she could tell her how well she did, how grateful she is that someone finally played a song instead of a bunch of notes. how she’s been looking for someone who plays with heart like vanessa does all day. how she’s glad it happened at all, even if vanessa happens to play like she’s out of her mind.

but she can’t tell her any of it- not until her choice has been made official. 

“it’s no problem at all, ms. vanessa. thank you for auditioning,” she says, and with that, vanessa leaves. 

brooke lynn tries to get through the last six auditions, but all she can think of is how she’d rather be playing with vanessa.  
by the time the last audition comes, she barely makes it through the first twenty bars before dismissing the scrawny blonde woman behind the piano with an insincere “thank you.” 

the moment the woman leaves the room, brooke digs through her cluttered purse until her fingers hit her phone. she quickly dials a number, and the other side picks up on the third ring.

“nina?” starts brooke lynn, her lips curling into a satisfied grin. 

“i found someone.”

-

it had been three days since the audition.

three days since brooke lynn called vanessa to tell her the news that she’d be debuting as her accompanist in two months.

three days since brooke heard her gasp in surprise before bursting into excitement, profusely thanking brooke lynn and telling her how she wouldn’t regret her decision. and brooke didn’t doubt it at all.

three days that brooke lynn has been thinking about that phone call, and every time it crosses her mind she can’t help but smile to herself.

as gruff as vanessa’s voice is, it’s absolutely infectious to brooke lynn- even when it’s muffled over the phone.

today is their first proper practice together, and brooke finds herself counting down the minutes until the rehearsal. it’s not unusual for her to look forward to playing a new song, of course.

except, she thinks of vanessa- her face when she concentrated on the notes, her gruff little voice, her long eyelashes and prefect makeup and lips like a plum-  
and suddenly she doesn’t give a damn about the sonata. 

there’s some kind of force pulling brooke lynn in towards her like gravity. it’s fascinating to her; she’s never met a classical musician like vanessa- she’s never met anyone like vanessa, for that matter. brooke lynn wants to know her. 

she’s sitting on her couch in her living room, reviewing her sheet music when she hears the knock against the door. 

she pulls herself to her feet, smooths out her grey pencil skirt as she walks, and opens the door to vanessa, who’s smiling from ear to ear and craning her neck to look up at brooke lynn.

“good morning, miss hytes,” she beams. she’s in a burgundy button up shirt, the top left open, and a black pencil skirt. her makeup is as perfect as brooke remembers it- her memory didn’t exaggerate. 

“i reviewed the music you sent me,”

“oh- yes, thank you,” she responds.

vanessa cuts her off mid-sentence.  
“and i’ve come to the conclusion that the dynamics are whack.”

brooke lynn just smiles.  
“come on in, vanessa.”

when they start off, vanessa plays less chaotically than she did at the audition; brooke lynn hopes it’s just because she’s reviewing the notes. slowly, with each run of the song, vanessa’s playing becomes bolder, stronger, more in charge, and brooke has to fight to stay on top. 

except, unlike the audition, vanessa is composed. she executes each note with a new certainty and precision; the audition was wild and uncontrolled, she was trying to make an impression. now, she’s polished, with the same burning confidence as before.  
and brooke lynn is absolutely infatuated. 

after an hour and a half, they take a break. brooke lynn puts a kettle on the stove, and sits next to vanessa on the couch. 

“i appreciate the energy,” laughs brooke lynn, stretching her arms out above her head. “but it would be great if we could be on generally the same page for the tempo and dynamics.”

vanessa smirks with hooded eyes.  
“you can’t handle me, miss brooke?”

brooke lynn scoffs, tucking a loose strand of hair from her bun behind her ear.  
“it’s so weird,” she starts. vanessa furrows her brows in confusion. “i’ve never met any classical musician like you. everyone else is boring.” 

vanessa laughs, batting her eyelashes.  
“you’re not boring.”

“well, i’m not as bold as you.”

vanessa shakes her head.  
“i wish i was more like you. you’re so put together, you don’t get famous for being a hot mess like me.”

brooke lynn can barely believe her ears.  
“are you joking? i can’t believe you aren’t famous yet. every time you play, it becomes your song. it’s incredible.” 

vanessa smiles and blushes, and her gaze drops down to her lap away from brooke’s.  
“thanks, miss brooke, but you’re just saying that. there’s no way it could be my song while you’re playing. i’m just your accompanist.” 

brooke wants to scream. why is vanessa being so stubborn? she wishes with her whole heart that vanessa could know just how much she means it; the effect that her playing has on brooke lynn, and the effect she knows it’ll have on an audience of over five hundred people, in a beautiful theatre. 

her brain short circuits when she opens her mouth to speak; her eloquence fails her when she needs it most.

“vanessa,” she says, looking directly into her downcast eyes, which she just now notices are beautiful in the natural light coming through the window behind them. she takes vanessa’s manicured hand into her own as she speaks, as a desperate attempt to emphasize what her words can’t carry.  
“you’re incredible.”

vanessa purses her dark red lips together, lifting her eyes to meet brooke lynn’s. vanessa squeezes brooke’s hand in her own, and brooke feels a smile curl onto her lips. maybe her message was finally being received. 

vanessa raises her other hand under brooke’s chin and places a warm kiss to her cheek.

and her brain short circuits.  
she can feel the lipstick on her cheek, in the shape of a perfect kiss print. 

“you spoil me, ms brooke.”

and without thinking, her lips are on vansessa’s. 

she feels the smaller girl jump back, a slight gasp escaping her lips, and brooke lynn’s blood runs cold. 

“i’m so sorry, vanessa, i shouldn’t have-“

and without thinking, vanessa’s lips are on brooke’s. 

a wave of relief passes over brooke lynn as she melts into vanessa, and her whole body relaxes. vanessa has her arms draped around her neck loosely, and brooke’s hand is on her cheek. their thighs press together on the couch. the kiss is warm, slow, patient. vanessa pulls away, their faces still inches apart. 

“we can finish this later,” she breathes, and brooke just nods, still speechless. “but the kettle’s boiling.” 

-

brooke pours their tea after hastily making her way to the kitchen, almost tripping over herself. not only because she is suddenly very aware of the screeching kettle, but because her pulse is still reeling and her face is still red hot. 

she allows herself to relax a little as they sip their tea, exchanging casual small talk. under the front of aloof conversation, brooke lynn’s mind wanders. did she ruin everything? would it get complicated, or personal? should she just start looking for another accompanist, even though she knows no one she’ll find will replace vanessa? 

they finish their tea, leaving the ornate teacups on the counter, and soon enough get back to their instruments. and as brooke plays alongside vanessa, her dynamics as wild and unpredictable and full of feeling as usual, she glances over at the pianist. vanessa’s already looking at her. she smiles: genuine, but little cocky, and picks up the pace once again. 

and brooke lynn knows it’ll be alright.


	2. Chapter 2

brooke lynn’s exhausted, to say the very least. 

her and vanessa have been practicing for four hours, as they have every tuesday, thursday, and saturday for the past three weeks. the pads of her fingers are raw from the pressure of the violin strings, her hands ache desperately, and if she hears sonata in a minor one more time, she might lose her damn mind. 

she can unfortunately say the same for vanessa, who’s sharp, bright attitude has dulled down over the hours, contrary to her playing, which has kept a consistently electric energy over the course of the rehearsal. 

as three weeks pass, their kiss starts to feel more and more like an impossible dream. nothing more has come of it, mostly because they don’t have the time or energy to juggle that and perfecting their sonata. 

sometimes when she looks at the pianist she wishes with her whole heart that something, anything had happened in between them. it drives her up the wall when vanessa bats her long eyelashes at her playfully and pouts her lips, or when she makes flirty comments in that voice that’s thick like honey and soft like silk. 

the only way brooke can describe how things went after the kiss is fizzling out; at first, the tension filled the room to the brim, filling her senses, choking her. she thought out every action, every sentence she said, and overthought it later after vanessa had left. it replayed in her head like a broken cassette tape. after all, what was she supposed to do in that situation? 

but the tension eased up, and brooke lynn could breathe again. they were friendly, and nothing more- except for vanessa’s occasional teasing, which persists to this day. brooke lynn has learned to be mostly unfazed by it; after a couple of weeks, she’s learned from experience that it never goes too far.

the sonata has been tough on the both of them- brooke lynn has been working tirelessly to have her shifting, bowing, and dynamics as polished as possible, and vanessa has had to learn whatever she didn’t know very well at the audition much too quickly for comfort. it’s a long piece, about ten minutes when played at the written tempo (another goal the two of them have yet to achieve). that’s ten minutes of gruelling detail they need to know almost by heart, with the sheet music only there for reference. 

it’s late- almost ten o’clock at night, and the sky has faded to an inky blue outside brooke lynn’s window. they’re on what feels like their millionth run of the piece, about halfway through during a fiercely intense line of the song, requiring both of them to summon all of their remaining concentration. suddenly, vanessa adds a grace note, catching brooke lynn by surprise a little. she takes her violin off of her shoulder wearily.  
“vanessa,” she starts, catching the attention of the pianist. “are you planning to keep that? i just need to know what’s coming.” her voice is croaky and dry, like there’s sandpaper lodged in her throat.

vanessa looks at brooke lynn with an almost embarrassed expression, her weight shifting around on the piano bench.  
“sorry, miss brooke, i didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

brooke lynn heaves out a sigh.  
“it’s okay. there just need to be no misunderstandings between us,” she says, a little apologetically. “no boundaries.”

“no boundaries,” repeats vanessa quietly, her eyes glassy and tired. “makes sense. i’ll keep the grace note.”

brooke lynn smiles, her tired eyes crinkling at the corners.  
“sounds good.”

they run that section of the song a couple more times, making sure brooke knows to account for vanessa’s modification. brooke puts her violin down with a heave of her chest.

“should we call it a day?” she asks, praying vanessa is on the same page as her even though it’s clear that she couldn’t be more ready to stop playing. 

“i’d love to,” sighs vanessa, already taking her sheet music off the piano. 

brooke packs up her violin and falls to her couch with a thud, spreading her arms across the headboard and watching vanessa pack up her things. 

“do you have anywhere to be?” asks brooke lynn, although she can’t imagine the answer is yes, as its 10:00 PM on a saturday. 

vanessa’s gaze shoots up from rummaging through her purse to brooke lynn. she smiles, raising an eyebrow with intrigue.

“nah, i’m all yours,” she says, and brooke’s smile widens just a little.  
“what do you have in mind?”

the violinist stands up, rolling her shoulders sorely, and walks across the room to her stone fireplace. she takes the large glass bottle of wine off the wooden ledge, and vanessa’s expression says everything she needs to know. 

within minutes, they’re sitting on brooke lynn’s couch sipping wine out of her expensive crystal glasses like classical music is a thing of the past. 

“do you have any plans for the rest of the weekend?” asks the violinist, taking a long sip from her wine glass.

“i’m going out with my girls- akeria and silky,” responds vanessa. “the bitches are crazy, but i love them.”

brooke lynn chuckles. she can only imagine what vanessa’s friends must be like if she describes them as crazy. 

“how ‘bout you, miss brooke?” continues the pianist before brooke can get a word in.  
“you got any hot dates coming up or something?” 

brooke lynn knows what she’s getting at almost instantly, despite the wine already starting to numb her usual sharpness. she laughs, barely fazed by vanessa’s advance. three weeks ago, her cheeks would’ve gone hot and she would barely be able to form a sentence. but she knows the drill- it’s been long enough. 

“of course not, you know me,” she sighs. “i’m boring.”

vanessa scoffs, shaking her head.  
“you’re not boring, miss brooke. just a little stoic is all.”

brooke lynn opens her mouth to speak, but vanessa cuts her off before she can start.

“i mean, it can’t have been that long since you had anything steady going, right?”

brooke’s not quite sure how to respond, when it suddenly occurs to her that the wine might be hitting vanessa a little harder than she accounted for.

“i mean- i don’t know, it’s been a little while. not that it matters.” there’s an uncertain quiver in her voice as she speaks.

“well, you said it yourself, ms brooke.” vanessa’s voice is a little lower than before, and her dark eyes are hooded.

“there can’t be any boundaries between us.”

brooke lynn can’t help but laugh. it’s come to the point where she can’t tell whether vanessa’s coming onto her, or just plain drunk. she figures the second one is true either way.

“alright,” she says, lifting herself off the couch and grabbing the bottle of wine in her hand that found its way to the coffee table in front of them. “i’m cutting you off.”

she heads to the kitchen, and after a couple of seconds, hears vanessa’s lighter footsteps behind her. 

“i’m just sayin’,” starts the pianist, and brooke lynn’s not too sure what to expect.  
“i find it hard to believe someone that fine could go single for very long.”

brooke lynn can feel herself getting a bit ticked off at vanessa’s comments. she knows the pianist means no harm, but all the teasing is driving her insane. she can’t tell what she’s trying to gain, or if she’s even sober enough to know. 

she doesn’t want to snap at vanessa- she likes her, as maddening as her incessant flirting has gotten. brooke wills herself to keep a levelled head and brush it off.

“i don’t know,” she starts, putting the wine back in her alcohol cabinet in the corner of the room. she has to stretch up on her toes a little to do so. “i have a lot on my plate with all the concerts lately. i don’t want to get distracted or anything.”

“would consider making an exception?” 

there’s that voice again that sends brooke reeling, makes her heart beat in her throat and ties her stomach in knots. she’s starting to loose her composure, and she knows vanessa can tell. she whips around to face the pianist; brooke lynn’s had it with her mind games. 

“vanessa, stop-“ 

the shorter girl’s back hits the wall with a quiet thud. brooke didn’t at all account for how close together they were; their faces are inches apart, though vanessa has to crane her neck up to meet the violinist’s height. brooke lynn can feel vanessa’s warm breath against her lips, and she keeps her eyes fixed on them as they curl up into a smirk, because if she looks away the moment might slip out between her fingers like sand. 

she suddenly feels vanessa’s fingers against her outer thigh, just beneath the hemline of her skirt, and then further up. chills like pins and needles run down her spine as vanessa leans in, impossibly close until their lips are practically grazing each other, and the floor seems to sway under brooke lynn’s feet.

“you don’t really mean that.”

vanessa’s voice is barely audible, but it’s enough to make brooke loose control. she leans in, pressing their lips together with a fiery intensity and grabbing vanessa hard by the waist. 

the shorter girl slides her hand around so that her fingers are between brooke’s legs, but before she can get much further brooke breaks their kiss, crouches down, wraps her arms firmly around vanessa’s outer thighs and hoists her up against the wall. they’re kissing again, urgent and full of lust as vanessa quickly starts unbuttoning brooke lynn’s dress shirt. 

she gets about halfway down, fumbling hastily with each button, before brooke lynn adjusts her grip on vanessa’s thighs and starts to carry the thankfully much lighter girl across the room. vanessa complies, wrapping her arms around brooke lynn’s neck for security and pressing her lips into her collarbones. she feels tiny in brooke lynn’s arms, and she doesn’t mind one bit. brooke lynn finally lays her down on a soft, queen sized when they reach her bedroom- a small, modernly decorated room that’s just barely lit from the light in kitchen. 

vanessa’s expression is practically indecent- her eyes are hooded and dark with lust, her lips slightly parted as her chest quickly rises and falls. her skirt rides up her legs just enough so that brooke can catch a glimpse of red lace. her lips press into a smirk again, and brooke lynn wants to shut her up before she says whatever cocky remark she has in mind. 

“what happened to not getting distracted?” her voice is a soft purr that makes brooke’s knees week, but her words spark annoyance.

“shut up,” mutters brooke lynn without thinking. she wants to fuck vanessa until she can’t form the words to tease her anymore. she will, if that’s what it takes.

suddenly vanessa sits up and reaches for the collar of the violinist’s partially unbuttoned shirt, pulling her down on top of her.  
“i kinda like it when you tell me off like that.”  
brooke lynn’s weight threatens to give out, so she lets herself fall to her hands and knees over vanessa. 

“you’re a fucking tease.”

and before vanessa can even think to get a word in, brooke lynn shuts her up manually. their kiss is hot, urgent, a little messy. brooke lowers her hips into vansssa’s, grinding her thigh in between the smaller girl’s legs and earning a soft gasp. she hastily shimmies vanessa’s skirt down her tanned legs, exposing the lacy red panties that are already soaked through. 

she slides a hand in through the elastic, and vanessa’s hips twitch a little against her touch. the smaller girl’s breathing is ragged, desperate, and she balls up the sheets of brooke’s bed in her fists underneath her as brooke gently feels up her thighs. the anticipation is broken when the taller blonde swipes her finger against vanessa’s clit, swift and hard. she cries out softly, desperate to be touched the way she needs, grabbing tighter and tighter at the sheets underneath her. 

brooke lynn slowly slides a finger in, sending a near electric shiver through vanessa’s body. she starts pumping slowly, a little deeper each time, and the smaller girl starts to buck her hips against her hand. 

“more,” she breathes into brooke’s neck. the blonde immediately withdraws all touch, pulling out of vanessa completely and watching her face twist in frustration.

“i’m sorry? you’re going to have to speak up a little.” vanessa had her fun already. brooke knows it’s her turn.

vanessa looks up with wide, blown out eyes, her gaping lips exposing her clenched teeth. her voice is shaky and quiet.  
“please, baby, i need more.”

brooke lynn smiles, sliding her hand back down into vanessa’s underwear.

“that’s much better.”

brooke lynn slides two fingers into vanessa, and the smaller girl’s nails grip into her back. she cries out in pleasure, pressing herself impossibly further into the violinist, greedy for her touch. 

brooke lynn has learned the hard way how tightly her pianist holds onto control.   


but in that moment, as she’s gasping and desperate for anything more brooke will give her, she knows vanessa’s practically wrapped around her finger.


End file.
